TR: A Bunny Thing Happened... (Sean and Kamillia)

Sean never had reason to go to the veterinarian. The last pet he had had was the family golden retriever when he had been a boy. After developing his telepathy, he had developed a certain level of discomfort with animals, such that any desire for a pet had evaporated. No matter how lonely he might get in between relationships in his large and otherwise empty house, finding a pet had never crossed his mind. For that same reason, he was rarely called upon to pet sit.

However, he lived with Josh now – had for nearly two years – and while Mopsy was, unquestionably, his partner’s pet, she was entitled to medical care. Sean certainly wished no harm on animals, even if he had no independent desire to keep and bond with them. While Josh had been called out to spend some time with his parents in Burlington, the psychiatrist had been charged with the task of caring for Mopsy.

Mopsy, for some reason, had stopped eating a couple of days ago. She was losing weight, and considering how tiny she was to begin with, that was a concern. Since Sean’s telepathy didn’t extend to other members of the animal kingdom, he had no method by which to learn what was wrong with her, absent a trip to the vet.

Thus he’d ushered her into her travel cage and drove downtown, before bringing her into the office. Which was as busy as a human medical office on the weekend. So it would be a long wait, surrounded by dogs, cats, birds and other species all awaiting treatment.

So few chairs were open, and the psychiatrist took the first one he found, near to one of the students he recognized from Hammel. Setting Mopsy’s carrier on his lap (since he thought she might be confused by the floor), he then turned towards Kamillia and offered her a small smile. “How are you today?”

They hadn’t formally met, but that was never a problem for Sean. He had access to every student’s file, and so he was often far more familiar with students than they were with him, barring whatever rumors about him abounded through gossip. More than that, four decades of telepathy had demonstrated time and again that privacy was more of an illusion than a reality.

Sean knew everyone.

“I’m fine,” the psychiatrist replied, which was true. He felt fine, and whatever discomfort he experience when surrounded by animals was minor when compared to what the animals surely felt while at the vet. In this instance, he was grateful that animals came up blank to his powers.

“As for her, I’m not entirely sure,” Sean admitted. He wasn’t an animal expert, and he knew less about rabbits than he did about, for instance, dogs. The psychiatrist tilted the cage slightly, just enough to spin Mopsy around towards Kamillia while not upsetting the poor creature. “She isn’t eating, which has us concerned. She typically has a healthy appetite.”

For a rabbit.

It was possible that she had a stomach bug; if she did, Sean didn’t know which anti-biotics to give a creature that small. It was a matter best left to the experts.

Sean could help her get her act together when they were back at Hammel, under the auspices of his authority. Until then, they were essentially on the same level here in the waiting room.

From her student file, the psychiatrist was indeed aware of her abilities. He knew that she could communicate with animals, although he didn’t keep up with her training notes; as such, he didn’t know precisely what limitations existed on her power, or how confident she was in her abilities.

Although, evidently she was confident enough to seek guidance from, or employment at, the veterinarian, according to her thoughts.

He also wasn’t the type of person to try to undermine someone else’s business. However, the waiting room was packed, Mopsy probably didn’t enjoy being at the vet, Sean certainly didn’t enjoy being at the vet, and Josh would want answers sooner rather than later. He hadn’t made an appointment, as this was a walk-in and thus they would be here all afternoon, quite possibly. Additionally, he doubted that it could hurt to have Kamillia involved.

After all, asking Mopsy directly might help, if she knew what the problem was. If not, they were back where they began, no worse for having made the attempt.

As such, Sean replied, “Would you mind? We don’t think she’s in pain, but admittedly, neither I nor my partner is an expert on rabbits.”

Sean would address academic performance on Monday, when they were back at Hammel. The psychiatrist had the authority to help find her a tutor, if that would help. He was determined not to have another Vincent Verax on his hands, and he believed everyone else was capable of graduating. The job market was another matter entirely, but he accepted responsibility for those conditions on behalf of his generation as a whole.

In one respect, Sean understood why she might not want other people to know what she could do. Metaphobia was a legitimate concern in their lives. While great strides had been made since Sean’s time as a student at Hammel, there remained room for great improvement. Even in a town as meta-friendly as Pilot Ridge. On the other hand, the psychiatrist wasn’t ashamed of his powers, and he didn’t care what other people thought in that regard. He wanted to minimize anti-psychic bias, but he wasn’t ashamed.

Then again, his telepathy worked with other people.

Sean held the carrier steady, turning it so that Mopsy faced Kamillia.

The rabbit looked up at Kamillia, unused to being addressed in a way that required her direct input. That isn’t my owner, she rushed to say. The very big man was nice enough but he wasn’t her owner. That was the man with the extra eyes. She loved him so much; her nose twitched at the thought.

The food doesn’t taste right, Mopsy added, finally answering the question posed to her.

He’s my owner’s mate, Mopsy replied, since she didn’t have other words for that. The big man treated her well but they didn’t have much of a relationship.

Sean waited patiently for the explanation. When Kamillia began to explain, he called no attention to her stutter; it was a side effect that he had encountered with similar powers before. Even if it wasn’t a side effect, and she suffered from a legitimate speech disorder, he wouldn’t call attention to it. She was aware of its existence.

When he received the information he remarked, “Is that so?” Not to challenge her assertion, as he was sure that she was telling the truth (she had no reason to lie to him, and he trusted in her abilities to communicate with a rabbit, one who had a very mild temperament from what he could discern from living with her for almost two years). Instead, he found it interesting how animals behaved in the absence of the ability to communicate with their owners.

In that way, they were like very small children, who cried over everything because they could only alert parents to a problem in a single way.

Turning the cage away from Kamillia, so that Mopsy was stable in his lap again, Sean glanced down at her. “We’ll have to go see if we can find more of her preferred food then.”

The pet store had been out the last time they had gone shopping, but they would try again. She had to eat, after all.

Looking back at Kamillia, Sean said, “Thank you.”

Mopsy’s nose twitched again. “Thank you.” Terminology wasn’t hugely important to her, the way it was with people. But she liked to be accurate, because that was how she interacted with others.

Sean returned the nod. This would save a great deal of time, which was more important to him than money. Never having been in short supply, he didn’t worry about natural expenses, such as medical care. However, not needing to remain in the waiting room for the next few hours, and instead being able to get to the root of the matter, was quite important to the psychiatrist. As such, he was grateful.

“You can if you’d like,” Sean told her. From typical observation and deduction, the psychiatrist assumed that Mopsy’s preferred food was the brand that Josh usually bought. Sean hadn’t lived with Mopsy since Josh had adopted her, but he had shared a home with her for nearly two years; to his knowledge, this was the first time she had refused to eat food, apart from when she was ill and/or vomiting.

The store had been out the last time, but it was worth trying again. If necessary, they could go into Burlington or another, larger municipality. Sean didn’t think that the food brand had been discontinued. If so, then they would need a contingency plan.